Empty
by NovakCat
Summary: What goes through Corday's head as she waits patiently for anyone to come to Romano's memorial...


Empty.

That one word could be so harmless, like the flutter of a butterfly's wings, yet hurt as much as an open fatal wound.

The room was empty.

Elizabeth Corday, a surgeon at County General Hospital, peered in to the room.

It was, of course, still empty.

Corday sighed and gently closed the door. So much for the memorial. So much for anything, really.

Corday ran her fingers through her red frizzy hair with another sigh. She should have expected this. She should have known that no one would have come. And no one had. Or would, for that matter.

Corday looked over at a large picture of a well-known face at this hospital. He looked decent, with a rapidly graying beard and auburn-colored hair. Not that there was much of it, as the photo depicted the man being partially bald. Dark brown beady eyes stared back at the world, almost as if he were judging everything and deeming it horrible.

Which, of course, was not far from the truth.

Corday smiled sadly at the man, blinking rapidly to keep her hazel-colored eyes from filling with tears.

"I'm sorry, Robert," she finally spoke. "It doesn't appear to be much of a turnout, does it?" She had an English accent that was very dominant when she spoke.

The man in the photograph, the late ER Chief of Emergency Medicine, Robert Romano, seemed to agree, as his eyes appeared to darken.

Corday smiled again. "I'm sure you can forgive them. You really weren't all that kind to them." Even as she said the words, Corday felt that they were hollow. Romano really did deserve better than this, but apparently she was the only one who thought so.

"I'm sure they'll come around," Corday murmured, mainly to herself. She knew that it was a lie, but it did make her feel a little bit better to say it aloud.

"_Yeah, the day Hell freezes over and start selling snow cones!"_ Corday smiled. She could hear Romano's response as if he were still alive. But her smile was soon replaced by a deep frown as she recalled a conversation that she had had with Romano not too long ago.

"_Lizzie," Romano exclaimed, sounding surprised to see her. He entered the surgeon's lounge and walked over to the coffee machine._

"_What are you doing here?" Corday inquired, sounding equally surprised. "Shouldn't you be in the ER?"_

_Romano finished pouring himself a cup of coffee and shrugged. "Nah, I'm sure Weaver can handle the ER for a minute." Seeing Corday's face, which was still confused, Romano gestured to his cup. "And I needed a cup of coffee. At least up here it's lukewarm instead of an iceberg. Last thing I need is to break my teeth on some damn coffee."_

_That earned him a small grin from Corday._

"_Aaaand," Romano continued as he perched himself on the arm of the couch that was across from the couch that Corday was sitting on, "I also came to check up on that patient." His voice had lost its teasing quality, and Corday could tell that Romano was serious. _

_The ex-surgeon's dark eyes studied Corday as he took a sip of his drink._

_Corday sighed heavily. "I'm afraid that he's not going to make it," she said, pressing her lips tightly together._

_Romano didn't respond, just took another sip. _

"_Do you believe in God?" Corday asked suddenly as she turned to him. Romano shrugged._

"_Can't say that I do," he replied casually. "And if there was some sort of higher power, I'd say that he's doing a pretty crappy job of running the place." He glanced at his realistic robotic arm to emphasize his point._

_Corday tightened her lips. The silence that followed was almost deafening. _

"_Well, I'd better get back before Kovac decides to cancel all those tests I ordered," Romano announced as he stood._

"_Do you think," she tried again, "there is a place up there, when we die?"_

_Romano threw his disposable cup in the trash and stood by the door._

_Looking back at Corday, he had replied, "There is no place in Heaven for people like me, Lizzie." _And then he had left.

Corday swallowed past a hard lump that had formed in the back of her throat. "No, Robert," she murmured, getting choked up, "there is a place for you. I know there is." She touched the picture frame gently.

No one would come that day; no one would enter the room.

Like the harmless wings of a butterfly; that was how her heart felt.

Empty.


End file.
